


Hold Me Close and Hold Me Fast

by Kacka



Series: A World Where Roses Bloom [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Hollywood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 12:37:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9123904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kacka/pseuds/Kacka
Summary: Clarke doesn't hate Bellamy Blake. She and her co-star aren't on the best of terms, but luckily they're both pretty good actors.





	

_Last one,_ Clarke thinks with a sigh, settling onto the couch. All she has to do is make it through this interview and she’s done for the day. Tomorrow will be another full day of convention activities-- panels, signings, photo ops with her fans-- but if she goes to bed early enough, she’s optimistic about her ability to make it through without her smile turning too fake. For now, she wants nothing more than to slip out of her heels and the skirt that has been riding up for the past twelve hours.

Bellamy sinks down next to her and she tries not to be too obvious about shrinking away from the arm he stretches along the back of the couch, rolling her shoulders instead and pinching the bridge of her nose, willing her headache to go away.  

“Is the princess having a problem?” He grumbles. “Spotlight not bright enough? Not getting the attention you think you deserve? Are your diamond shoes too tight?”

“Down boy,” she sighs, feeling some deep-seated satisfaction when his nostrils flare. “I’m just tired.”

“Right.”

It’s amazing how much derision he can pack into one syllable.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She snaps, kicking herself for rising to his bait. 

“It means, this is your job. If you hate it so much, get a different one or go back to living off daddy’s money. Otherwise, suck it up and pretend to care like you always do.”

Anger twists in her gut. “God forbid you give me the benefit of the doubt when I have a headache at the end of a long day. No, jumping straight to believing the worst about me is definitely the way to go.”

Something flashes on his face that looks suspiciously like guilt, but it’s fleeting, gone before she can be sure.

 “I call it like I see it. You want me to think better of you, try deserving it sometime.”

“What’s the point? You see what you want to see, Bellamy. You have this version of me that you’ve imagined and you’ll bend over backwards to fit me into it. I doubt there’s anything I could do that would change your mind.”

He opens his mouth to reply but snaps it shut when the camera crew files in. “Time to put on your happy face,” he says under his breath, so low only Clarke can hear.

“Screw you,” she hisses back.

“You wish, Princess.”

It physically pains Clarke to arrange the press-friendly smile on her face, but she manages. All the while, that feeling of _wrongness_ she always gets when she and Bellamy are sniping at each other, the one that’s been an ever-present companion for the past year or so, churns in her stomach. 

She usually doesn’t hate fan conventions. They’re exhausting, it’s true, but it’s also gratifying to get to interact with their viewers, to see the enthusiasm and passion people have for this show she and her co-stars and the crew put so much work into.

Nobody was sure how well _Sky High: The Series_ would do, whether audiences would have any interest at all in a spinoff of a movie that came out more than a decade ago. The first season was stressful, every move calculated, social media presences carefully cultivated. Good ratings and reviews felt like huge victories, and bad ones felt like devastating failures.

Despite a mostly-unknown cast, low production budgets, and the network giving them less marketing than they deserved, the show developed a cult following that managed to keep them on the air and is still going strong halfway into season two. Clarke loves the show and is grateful to the fans who campaigned so hard for it, so she usually doesn’t mind these kinds of events.

But there are a lot of things about her job that have changed this season, and having Bellamy Blake lurking at her side for days on end, winding her up when there are too many cameras around for her to do anything about it, is driving her a little crazy.

The interview begins and Clarke feels herself mentally checking out as they’re asked the same questions they’ve been asked a hundred times. Both of them deliver their answers with practiced charm, smiling at each other like they’re the best of friends.

They are actors, after all.

 

* * *

 

 **_Interviewer:_ ** _One of the elements that drew people to the show in its freshman season was the burgeoning friendship between your characters. Season two, however, has seen Liz and Robbie work more independently. What has it been like to act through the shift in that dynamic?_

 **_BB:_ ** _I think it feels very real and very natural in some ways._

 **_CG:_ ** _Yeah, all friendships go through stages. A lot of my friendships in high school were born out of shared experiences and I think it’s normal that they wouldn’t feel as close now that they aren’t spending as much time together._

 ** _Interviewer:_** _So you don’t think there will be any hard feelings?_  

 **_CG:_ ** _Well, I wouldn’t say that. [laughs] I think there are a lot of things they need to talk about before they can forgive and move forward._

 **_BB:_ ** _But if they can come back together and work through their issues, I think their friendship will be stronger than ever._

 

* * *

 

Clarke doesn’t hate Bellamy Blake, no matter what anyone thinks.

 And really, most people _don’t_ think she hates him. The general public seems to buy the act of friendship they put on for cameras and social media, though people who work with them know how cold they are with each other, how distant. How they arm themselves, how they don’t pull any punches, but only with each other.

To the casual observer, it may _seem_ that Clarke hates him. But she doesn’t. Not really.

At first, she liked him almost _too_ much. She’d had recurring roles on other shows on the network before she got cast in _Sky High_ , so she knew what she was doing a little more than he did.

When he arrived on set, he seemed to be in a constant state of shock at the turn his life had taken, and honestly, it was cute. _He_ was cute. And hot. And smart and snarky and a great actor.

She never had a chance.

They would find each other at group events, naturally sort of drifting together without noticing. It felt like a victory every time she got him to duck his head in a smile. It felt like she’d swallowed pop rocks every time he made her laugh. They were easy, fast friends. 

Until Clarke screwed it up.

Nathan Miller, the actor who played Bellamy’s character’s best friend, had the whole cast over to watch the premiere together. Clarke had just enough to drink that she felt brave, and at the end of the night as everyone else was falling asleep on top of each other or piling into vehicles to go home, she found herself alone in the hall with Bellamy. It was so simple to lean over and kiss him.

But he didn’t kiss her back. 

He went kind of awkwardly still under her mouth, then gently pushed her away. Embarrassment trapped her apologies under her tongue, in the back of her throat. She could do nothing but stare at him blankly for a moment. And then she bolted. 

It shouldn’t have been so easy to avoid him after that, but it was. They had finished filming for the first season, and she’d landed a supporting role in a Joan of Arc biopic, and she let her busy schedule distract her. The only time she had to be in the same space as him was for press. 

And then season two started and they hardly had any scenes together. They might have been on set at the same time but it became second nature for Clarke to gravitate towards people who weren’t hanging out with Bellamy. To people who weren’t Bellamy himself.

The worst part was, he _let_ her. He stopped seeking her out, never tried to make her talk to him. He gave her space and matched her fire whenever she picked fights, even began picking some of his own. She’d never liked getting what she wanted less.

 

* * *

 

 **_Interviewer:_ ** _Now that you’ve been doing this for a season and a half, is it easier for you to slip into your character’s mindset?_

 **_BB:_ ** _I’ve always connected with Robbie pretty easily. He’s very independent, likes to deal with his own problems on his own terms, to the point of hiding them from other people. Last season it was his dad and this season, Robbie has taken that kind of independence to the next level by trying not to burden his friends with these threats. To me it really feels like a different facet of the same struggle, which does make it easy to get into character._

 **_CG:_ ** _I think it is easier now. Finding out that her mom isn’t the hero she thought she was, but actually a supervillain, brought out all these questions she’s dealing with this season. How do I forge my own path? How do I become my own person? And I really relate to that struggle._

 **_BB:_ ** _Oh, is your mom a supervillain too?_

 **_CG:_ ** _[laughs] I can neither confirm nor deny. Secret identities and all._

 **_BB:_ ** _I’m taking that as a yes._

 **_Interviewer:_ ** _Looks like the tension between your characters is something that stays on the screen. Fans of the show will be happy to hear it’s nothing but love on the Sky High set!_

 

* * *

 

Clarke wants to hate Bellamy, but she can’t quite forget how much she liked him before. How the distance between them is, in part, her fault. If her pride weren’t so wounded, if she’d never started lashing out at him, maybe they could have stayed friends.

It would be easier if she hated him. To her dismay, she rarely manages more than in-the-moment frustration, irritation, anger, or some combination of the three. Meanwhile, he doesn’t seem troubled at all to-- at best-- dismiss and ignore her, and at worst, despise her.

Which is why it’s such a shock when he knocks on the door of her hotel room that evening.

He’s still wearing the plain gray t-shirt from earlier, but he’d ditched his hat somewhere and put on glasses, which-- okay, Clarke is aware that everything is a good look on Bellamy Blake, but the glasses really do it for her.

It’s like getting to see Clark Kent when everybody else sees Superman. Like she’s privy to another layer of who he is, like he’s showing her who he chooses to be when there aren’t any cameras on him.

“What do you want?” She demands, then winces at her own sharp tone. A full day of squabbling on top of her exhaustion have made her cranky.

He takes in her attire. “Did I wake you?” 

“No, I was just about to go to sleep. I think I’m getting a migraine, but maybe it’s just my  one-size-too-small diamond shoes messing with my circulation,” she says pointedly, and now it’s his turn to wince.

“I’m really sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have said that stuff. I know you genuinely care about your job, and that I can be too hard on you sometimes.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I was out of line.”

She stares at him for a minute, but he seems to be genuine.

“Apology accepted.” She shifts from one foot to the other, suddenly very aware that she’s wearing her Batman boxer shorts and no makeup. His glasses feel extra unfair. “Is something wrong?”

“Does something have to be wrong for me to stop by?” He asks, a rueful smile on his face.

“You have to admit, it’s a little unexpected.”

“But not completely unprecedented,” he reminds her, looking awkward as he runs a hand through his hair. “Feel free to kick me out, but I was hoping we could talk?”

“Talk,” she repeats, dubious.

“Talk and not argue,” he clarifies. “I’m on my best behavior.”

She purses her lips but stands aside to let him in.

There’s palpable tension between them as he follows her across the room to the couch. It pushes her to leave a cushion and a half of space between them, tugging a pillow into her lap to squeeze.

“I got the next script today,” he says, his tone careful. He’s leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, looking every bit as uncomfortable as she feels. Which is a little vindicating.

“Wait, don’t tell me. We’ve got scenes together. You don’t have to worry, Bellamy. I’m a professional. I know things have been a little-- rough between us lately but I promise it won’t interfere with my performance.”

“I know it won’t.” He shoots her a thin-lipped smile. “It’s just-- I used to look forward to our scenes together, you know? 

“Well, I’m a decent actor,” Clarke jokes, biting back a pointed comment about how she wasn’t hired because of _daddy’s money_.

“You are,” he agrees, to her surprise. “You’re a great actor.”

“Thanks.” She pauses. “I know it sounds like I’m-- You probably think I just tell people this for good press, but I think you’re a great actor too.”

“Yeah?” He says, exhaling long and slow. “So we’ve established professional respect. I’m proud of us. Didn’t know we had it in us to be civil anymore.”

“I knew, but only because I’m better than you in every conceivable way.” She manages to pull off a teasing tone and is gratified to see a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“See?” He shakes his head. “This is what I meant. It’s not just that you’re good at your job, Clarke. It’s us. It’s-- Do you remember the final round of callbacks?” 

“You mean the one where you kept messing up your lines because you lost one of your contacts? Hard to forget.”

“And you somehow steered us through the scene,” he finishes, nodding. “We just click. We always have. Even when we’re fighting, we know exactly where to hit for maximum damage. Acting opposite you feels so natural; I think it’s a big part of why we got the jobs.” He clasps and unclasps his hands. “Look, I don’t-- I’m sorry things have been strained between us. I’d really like to--” He sighs. “I don’t want--” He shakes his head. “Sorry, I don’t know how to say this without feeling really middle school about it.”

Clarke bites her lip on a smile, then crosses the room to grab the hotel pen and pad from where it rests on her bedside table. She can feel his eyes on her as she scrawls a quick message, rips it off, folds it, and hands it to him.

His expression transforms from curiosity to amusement and he looks back up to her, holding his hand out wordlessly for the pen.

When he passes the paper back to her, she finds that she’s not nervous at all. She smiles outright at his carefully penned response. To her amazement, when she looks up to meet his eyes, he’s smiling back at her.

“That what you had in mind?” She asks.

“Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck, still awkward but endearingly so. “That’s pretty much the idea. I know I’ve said a lot of shitty stuff to you, and I’m sorry, and I’d really like to try to make things better between us. But I can’t do that alone.”

“I know.” She looks down at her toenails, bright red against the carpet. “I’m sorry too. And-- I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” He asks, looking hopeful.

“Yeah.”’ She extends her hand. “Clean slate?”

He nods, his grip warm and firm. “Clean slate.”

 

* * *

* * *

 

Falling back into friendship with Bellamy is harder than she would’ve expected.

Her first instinct is still sometimes to snap at him, before she catches herself and remembers that they’re not actively antagonizing each other anymore. He seems to be on guard as well, choosing his words carefully, framing his questions and comments to her in the least aggressive way he can.

It’s tiring to remind herself not to read anything into his facial expressions, to always be wondering if she’s crossing a line when she goes to tease him, but she thinks it’s worth the effort. It’s nice to exchange friendly smiles when they catch each other’s eye across the room. It’s nice not to miss out on group activities, or be strategic in choosing where to sit, just because the other is around.

That’s what prompts her one afternoon, while they’re on a break, to find him in the quiet corner where he’s settled to look over his script.

“You mind?” She asks, sliding down next to him when he shakes his head.

The silence is awkward for a moment, despite the fact that they both have their own scenes to study, their own work to do. Finally, she breaks and says, “Okay, is this harder than I thought it would be, or is it just me?

“What, acting? You’ve been doing this for years and you’re just now figuring out it’s not as easy as it looks?”

She leans and bumps his shoulder with hers. “You know what I mean. This. Us.”

“I do know what you mean,” he admits. “Being an ass to you is such a kneejerk response at this point, I feel like I have to actively police myself when you’re around.”

“That’s just it. I feel like-- No offense, but being a snarky asshole is kind of part of your personality.”

“Why would that offend me?” He says, but he sounds mildly amused.

“It’s part of my personality too,” she smirks. “That’s why we became friends in the first place. I don’t want fake Clarke to be friends with fake Bellamy.”

“I think it’s just going to take some getting used to. Practice makes perfect.”

“Practice being friends?”

“Why not?” He reaches next to him and picks up a bag of baby carrots, offering it to her. “For instance, friends share stuff.”

She laughs. “Well if you’re going to be giving me free food, this might be easier than I thought.”

They settle into a more amicable silence, enjoying each other’s company while they do their own thing. He’ll speak up every so often with commentary on a scene, or she’ll ask his opinion about something, and this part is vaguely familiar. Bellamy is smart and he cares about things on levels few people achieve. Hashing the show out with him always makes her feel better about how she’s playing her character.

“What’s going on with you guys?” Monty asks, he and Miller and Jasper dropping down next to the two of them a little while later. Their friends and coworkers are understandably wary. They haven’t been subtle about their mutual avoidance, nor about their spats when their paths inevitably intersected. She imagines they have whiplash.

“Nothing,” Bellamy says absently, not even glancing up.

Jasper’s eyes narrow. “Did something happen at the con?”

Clarke exchanges a look with Bellamy, then they both shrug. “Not really,” she says, nonchalant.

“Just to be clear, you’re not hooking up?” Monty asks, less accusatory than Jasper but still curious. “I’m not saying there’s money riding on it, but--”

“We’re not hooking up,” Clarke says firmly, willing her face not to get red.

“And if we were, it wouldn’t be anybody’s business but ours,” Bellamy adds.

Jasper squints at them and leans forward, uncomfortably close. “You guys are still you, right?”

“Who else would we be?” Clarke grumbles, swatting his finger away when he reaches out to poke her face.

“Clones. Lifelike androids. Evil twins. This could even be the alien takeover we’re all afraid of. Quick, what’s a question only Bellamy would know the answer to?”

“What’s the word for beer in Latin?” Monty supplies. Miller gives him a look and he shrugs. “Seemed like the intersection of his interests.”

“It’s _cervisia_ ,” Bellamy says, like a reflex. “And we’re not aliens or robots or whatever the hell else you said. We’re just mature adults.” Miller scoffs and Bellamy kicks him in retaliation.

“That kind of undermines your point,” Clarke tells him, and he smirks.

“Okay, so we’re _sometimes_ mature adults.”

“We decided to be mature about this,” she clarifies, choosing to overlook the note-passing element to their reconciliation. She might have it taped to her mirror at home, but nobody needs to know that.

“This is what we’re saying,” Miller grumbles, stealing a carrot. “It’s weird that you’re agreeing, and doing it in your inside voices.”

“Get used to it,” Bellamy advises him.

Clarke has to duck her head back to her script so nobody can tell how wide she’s smiling.

 

* * *

 

**_Sky High recap: “Back to Basics”_ **

_The band is back together! Granted, it’s not the happy reunion we’ve all been waiting for, but fans were certainly not let down by the emotional roller coaster of last night’s episode._

_After spending most of the season apart, Liz and Robbie had more than a few choice words for each other, and Griffin and Blake definitely brought their A-game! Both actors gave raw, heart-wrenching performances that left their viewers eagerly awaiting next week’s episode._

_Can they forgive and forget? Will they be able to set aside their differences or will those differences drive them apart? Only time will tell._

 

* * *

 

They get better at it. At being friends again, at being themselves around each other again. She gets braver with her quippy comebacks; he doesn’t hesitate as long before tossing a teasing comment her way, or reaching out for an innocuous, platonic touch.

Still, some moments feel more natural than others.

“I forgot what an old man you are,” Clarke teases when he winds up lying on the floor of her trailer after a particularly demanding afternoon of filming. He keeps adjusting his back to stretch in different ways, and while she’s glad for her own sanity that he isn’t making any moan-like noises, she can see the way his jaw muscle clenches and knows that he’s in pain.

“Get off my lawn.”

“Get off my floor,” she retorts. He starts to try to sit up but she reaches out hastily to push him back down. Her hair swings in his scowling face as she grins down at him. “I’m kidding. My floor is yours anytime you want it.”

“Thanks,” he grunts, getting comfortable again. “I might stay here for a few days. Just not move.”

“You could,” she points out. “We don’t shoot again until Wednesday.”

“Right, I forgot. What are you going to do?”

“Binge _Lost_.” Clarke is looking forward to camping out in her sweatpants with a lot of takeout and wine. It’s going to be great. “I got through season two and had to stop until I could devote a lot of brainpower to following the plot.”

“It only gets more convoluted.”

“You a fan?”

“Haven’t seen it in ages, but I used to watch it with O. Octavia. My--”

“Your sister.” Her lips curl to one side in amusement. “I know, Bellamy. You only talk about her all the time.”

“Shut up.”

“I think it’s cute,” she assures him. Then, before he can follow up on that train of thought, adds, “What are your plans for the long weekend?”

There’s a slight pause, like he’s thinking about backtracking. He doesn’t. “I don’t have any plans. I keep forgetting about it, in all honesty. Every time I remember, it’s like a gift.”

“Well you’re welcome to come chill with me and my Netflix queue.” Bellamy tips his head back to give her a questioning look and she winces. “I mean that literally, of course. Not like-- Just-- Never mind.”

“No, no,” he says quickly, sitting up and turning to face her, his face inscrutable. “It’s a nice offer. It’s just kind of--”

“New?”

He half-smiles. “Yeah. We’ve never really done the whole extended, private one-on-one time thing. At least, not lately. But it’s only weird if we make it weird, right?”

“You’re suggesting we act like it’s normal until we feel like it is?”

“Fake it till you make it.”

Clarke has to laugh. “In that case, I’m not rescinding my offer. Come over and hang if you want, and if you don’t, just know that means more wine for me, and therefore more drunk texts _from_ me.”

His laugh turns into a strangled cough, as if he’s trying to mask his delight by acting disappointed with her. “I’m going to end up coming over either way, aren’t I?”

“Probably,” Clarke grins.”You’re kind of a sucker, Blake.”

He shakes his head, unable to stop the smile on his face. “Don’t let it get around.”

 

* * *

 

**_Out and About_ **

_‘Sky High’ stars Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin were spotted leaving a restaurant together in downtown LA. Neither Blake nor Griffin had a comment for us but a source close to the couple says they’re nearly inseparable these days. Was it a work dinner or perhaps something more intimate? Wouldn’t we like to know!_

 

* * *

 

The problem, she discovers, of rekindling her friendship with Bellamy, is that she still likes him a lot more than she should.

“Feelings are the _worst_ ,” she groans, burying her face in her comforter. Wells hums sympathetically, a noise she’s sure he perfected just for her.

“Is that the statement you want me to release?”

She picks up her head to glare at him properly. “Of course not. This is strictly you and me. Agent-client confidentiality.”

“You didn’t make me sign any NDA, remember?”

“Then best friend confidentiality. You tell about this and I’ll tell everyone about that one time with the cat food.”

“Yeah, that’s the same,” he says, dry. “Let me remind you that I started this as a work call. What do you want me to say about the picture?”

“Nothing,” she sighs, waving a hand dismissively. She knew they were taking a chance, going out to eat like that, but she had a craving for Pho. There was no helping it.

And when she thinks of the moments they _didn’t_ get photos of-- the ones of them sharing a blanket as they watched _Lost_ , the ones of them huddled together over a webpage detailing the many plot holes, the ones when she woke up from an accidental (read: wine-induced) nap with his fingers combing through her hair-- she knows it could’ve been something way more incriminating. Going out to eat is the most plausibly deniable thing they did all weekend.

“Don’t confirm, don’t deny, just kind of talk around it,” she tells Wells. “We’re friends. We work together. I trust you not to harm either of our reputations. And also bring me ice cream and hugs if it blows up in my face again.”

He frowns. “If what blows up in your face?”

“ _Feelings,_ Wells. Unrequited feelings.”

“I’m not convinced that’s what’s going on here.”

“It was a pretty clear rejection,” she reminds him.

“But neither of you used your words back then.”

“No, but--”

“And you haven’t addressed it since.”

“Well, no, but--”

“Then there’s still a chance.” Clarke brings her phone close to her face so he can get a good look at her eye roll, and he laughs. “I saw you guys on set last season. I saw the way he looked at you. I wouldn’t count you out just yet.”

“That doesn’t actually make me feel better,” she admits. “I tried optimism before and I got burned, so I’m giving pessimism a chance.”

Wells pauses for a moment, then shrugs. “I reserve the right to say I told you so.”

“You always do,” she laughs. “I miss you.”

“I know. I’m very missable.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah. I miss you too.”

 

* * *

 

 **@skyhighbts:** @thegriffinator and @natemills goofing off between scenes keeps morale up on long days of shooting #skyhigh

 

 **@thegriffinator:** for the record, shooting wouldn’t have gone so long if @superblake hadn’t been making faces at us from behind the camera

 **@superblake:** @thegriffinator nice try but @natemills didn’t seem to be having a problem getting through his lines #whatisthetruth

 **@natemills:** @thegriffinator @superblake looking at your face is always a problem for me

 **@superblake:** @natemills et tu, brute?

 **@thegriffinator:** @superblake nerrrrrrrrrd

 

* * *

 

“Here.” Clarke accepts the coffee that he’s thrusting at her before she can even process it.

“What’s this for?” She asks, taking a sip. It’s her splurge drink: the biggest caramel macchiato the studio coffee shop offers.

“You paid for Pho.”

“And then I ate two thirds of it.”

“Sorry, do you want me to take two thirds of your coffee back? I don’t think they’ll let me do a return, but I could dump it out on the ground if you want.”

“No way.” She pulls the coffee out of his reach, shielding it with her body. He smirks, victorious. “That would be such a waste.”

“Then just say ‘thank you Bellamy’ and drink your liquid sugar coma.”

“I have to say thank you for your thank you?”

“It’s not a thank you. It’s-- we’re even now.”

“But if I have to thank you, then we’re not even anymore.”

His eyes roll skyward and she hides her smile behind a sip. “This is what I get for trying to reciprocate and do something nice,” he grumbles, turning to leave. She grabs his hand, giving it a quick squeeze before letting go. Wouldn’t want to get too comfortable.

“Thank you, Bellamy. It is a thoughtful gesture.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He thinks for a moment and then drags a chair next to hers while they wait for their turn in makeup. “It’s no big deal.”

And it’s not, to him. But it is to Clarke. Not the six dollars she could have afforded to spend, but that he noticed what she likes to treat herself to. That he thought of her and wanted to do something nice. Little actions that say a lot. It’s just Bellamy.

She sips at the drink and peeks at him. His hair flops in his eyes as he tries to read, his hand sweeping them back in a practiced motion. The way he wets his lips when he’s thinking about how to deliver a line too much for her to handle.

She’s pretty sure she’s going to get her heart broken, and there’s not a damn thing she can or wants to do about it.

 

* * *

 

 **@harperwrites:** great visit to the #skyhigh set today! will post quotes from cast interviews later. for now, enjoy this peek at Robbie’s locker! [click to view image]

 

 **@sky420:** lmao who cares about his locker? show us his bedroom  && then we’ll talk

 **@griffangirl:** IS THAT LIZ’S SWEATER?

 **@elizabeth_marie:** @griffangirl receipts?

 **@griffangirl:** @elizabeth_marie from 1x09!! [click to view image]

 **@mindovermatter:** is nobody going to mention the blue and gray scarf?? #RavenclawRobbie CONFIRMED #fightme

 **@elizabeth_marie:** idk @griffangirl i’m not sold. it could also be the shirt he wears in 2x02 [click to view image]

 **@sky_hi:** @griffangirl omg

 **@sky_hi:** @griffangirl OMG???

 **@griffangirl:** @elizabeth_marie CURSE YOU AND YOUR LOGIC let my shipper trash self have this!!!

 

* * *

 

“I knew this was coming,” Clarke mumbles. She doesn’t tend to bother Raven much at work-- mostly because she and the other stunt designers handle a lot of volatile materials, and Clarke has a mild fear of accidentally setting something off-- but she needed on-site commiseration when she got the latest script, and Wells isn’t local at the moment.

“Anyone who watches the show knew this was coming,” Raven says, squinting at a sketch before turning it upside down, like that will help her understand how it’s supposed to work. “Even people who don’t watch the show knew Liz and Robbie were going to get together eventually.”

“Yeah. _Eventually_ ,” Clarke stresses. “I didn’t think it would be anytime soon.”

“They aren’t _together_ together though, right?” Raven asks, looking up at the panic in her tone.

“No. We start kissing but then we get interrupted, and then later in the episode we figure out we’re being mind-controlled and write it off as a supervillain ploy to distract us.” She bites her lip. “But I have to kiss him. And I don’t think that’s going to be very good for my emotional state.”

“What, you don’t think he’ll be a good kisser?”

“I’ve been trying not to think about him like that. And we’re doing so well these days, I don’t want this to make things awful between us again.”

Raven sets down her things and turns to face Clarke, tapping her fingers impatiently. “Have you talked to him about it? Because I’m pretty sure that’s where you went wrong last time.”

“That’s what Wells said too.”

“Smart guy.” Raven leans back in her chair, her restless energy stilling as she considers. “Have you and Bellamy fought about anything since you became friends again?”

“No, we’ve been playing nice. Keeping things simple as we can.”

“So, overcorrecting.”

Clarke frowns. “I don’t think of it that way.”

“But you _still_ haven’t talked about where you guys went wrong before,” Raven points out. “I know you were really hurt when that went down, but for all the fighting you guys did, I don’t think you actually ever had _that_ fight. Not all arguments are bad. This might be a one you both need. If you actually resolve your issues then there won’t be any old shit for this kissing scene to stir up.”

Clarke sighs. Raven is right, and she knows it. But there's only a  _chance_ the kiss scene will dredge up old memories. Dredging them up herself, intentionally, makes it certain, and she'd rather keep avoiding the topic.

“That can be my plan B,” she decides.

“What’s plan A?”

“Assume that we’re professionals who can kiss on camera without getting weird about it.”

“So… Ignore it and hope it resolves itself. Basically the opposite of what I said.” Raven shakes her head. “Let me know how that works out for you.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll hear. One way or the other.”

 

* * *

 

**_Sky High 2x11 “Brainwashed” Promo Pics_ **

_Looks like LizRob fans have something to look forward to in the penultimate episode of the season. If this sneak peek is any indication, everyone’s favorite supervillain-fighting duo is back at it with the intense stares and sexual tension. Is this smoldering relationship about to ignite, or go up in smoke? Tell us what you think in the comments!_

 

* * *

 

“It’s only weird if we let it be weird, right?”

Clarke jumps. She hadn’t known Bellamy was standing next to her.

They’ve not talked about the kiss, or the scene at all, until now. In just a few moments, they’ll have to go run it. The more Clarke tries to squash her anxiety, the more it gnaws at her insides.

“Maybe.” She doesn’t want to get into this now, of all times, but-- she doesn’t want to be dishonest with him either. Besides, they’re friends. It’s entirely possible he could say something that would actually make her feel better.

“I think it has a certain degree of weirdness either way,” she says. She can feel his eyes on her but doesn’t make contact.

“One of the inherently weird parts of acting.”

She turns to him finally and gives him a wry smile. “We both know it’s more than that.”

He opens his mouth, about to give an response she desperately wants to hear, but is cut off when their names are called to set. She starts to turn away but he catches her elbow.

“Clarke--”

“Later,” she says, trying to sound steadier than she feels. “After.”

A troubled expression crosses his face but he releases her. “Okay.”

They take their places on the mad science lab set, the director’s voice feeling distant. She nods, thinks she responds appropriately, tries to internalize the information, but her mind is preoccupied. And by the way Bellamy’s eyes never leave her face for long, she can tell he sees it.

She breaks through the fog a bit when the camera starts rolling, pulling off what she thinks is a decent delivery. They run only the dialogue for a while, and the familiarity of that washes over her and eases some of her tension.

Of course, when it’s time for the kiss, that same tension ratchets back up her spine.

Clarke has had enough experience with stage kissing to know it won’t be anything romantic. She can’t ignore the feeling of everyone’s eyes on her, of the lights and the makeup and Liz’s clothes. It’s not her kissing Bellamy, she tries to tell herself. It’s Liz kissing Robbie, and Robbie _definitely_ wants to kiss Liz back.

But as Bellamy draws closer, she realizes that her efforts at compartmentalization are for nothing. Just as she can’t forget where they are, she also can’t forget the last time they were in this position. The look on his face when he pulled away, the way the hand that’s now resting on her side is the same one that had held them apart.

His fingers flex on her waist, his thumb stroking subtly like he’s trying to soothe her-- Clarke, not Liz-- but she can see the tight set of his shoulders and jaw. And when they come together, it’s more than lackluster.

It feels like it felt back when she tried to kiss him the first time: like he’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else. Like he’s trying to distance himself.

Of course this time, he can’t. This time he has to stick with it, to kiss her again, and again, and with different angles and different pacings, until the director finally releases them to start setting up the next scene. Bellamy is pulled away to shoot an exterior before they lose the light, Clarke quickly shuffled off into wardrobe, and neither of them see the other for the entirety of the afternoon.

Once again, Clarke feels like it’s all _too easy_ to avoid seeing Bellamy. She wants to see him, wants to make sure things between them are okay, but she’s worried that they’re not. And she’s even more worried when he doesn’t seek her out either.

She waits around in her trailer for a while after her filming has wrapped, but Bellamy doesn’t show.

And doesn’t show.

And doesn’t show.

Clarke makes it all the way to the car before she feels the pinprick of tears, waiting in the wings for their cue.

 

* * *

 

 **Raven:**  When do you come home again?

 **Wells:** Not until the third.

Why?

 **Raven:** I’m pretty sure it didn’t go well

She’s not answering my texts

Should I call her?

 **Wells:** She’s even less likely to answer the phone if she’s upset

Let me try

 **Raven:** Standing by

 

 **Raven:** Any updates?

 **Wells:** No response yet

Maybe she and Bellamy are talking

Or not talking

Maybe they got their shit together and she’s just busy

 **Raven:** Hope so

Wish you were here

 **Wells:** I know you think I’m better at feelings than you are but from what Clarke said you’ve done pretty well

 **Raven:** That’s not the only reason

 **Wells:** Yeah

I wish I was there too

 

* * *

It’s tempting to just go home, to slip into sweats and hide under the covers for as long as she can. But as soon as that image slips into her mind, it’s followed by the realization that even her bed won’t make her feel better, even the walls of her apartment won’t shut out the shouting in her mind.

So she gives her driver Bellamy’s address instead and prays that no one sees her slipping into his building.

He has the whole fourth floor to himself and often laments to Clarke about how much space it is, how it’s weird because he’s never home, doesn’t need it, doesn’t know what to do with it. He doesn’t answer her calls, nor the doorbell, so she settles to the ground to wait.

Every text that comes in makes her heart jump, but it’s never Bellamy. It’s only Raven, and then Wells. She hides them to answer later, when she has something more conclusive to report.

Candy Crush is a decent distraction until her phone dies, and then she tips her head back against the door, trying not to think _too_ hard about what she’s going to say.

There’s no use, when she has no idea what’s going on in his mind.

At some point, early call times and boredom must catch up with her, because she wakes to find Bellamy gently shaking her shoulder and calling her name like it’s a prayer.

He’s so beautiful, she thinks as he slides down to sit next to her, smiling softly.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” He mirrors her pose, legs outstretched, ankles crossed. His leg skims her knee, her thigh, as he settles.

“Want to know something funny?” He asks. “I’ve been outside your place this whole time, waiting for you.”

And just like that, she’s sure they’re going to be okay.

“I tried calling.”

“Phone died.” He holds it up, like he feels the need to back up his story. “When you didn’t come home after a couple of hours I figured I’d come grab my charger. Thought I’d try calling you, and if that didn’t work, I was planning to camp out by your trailer. Guess you beat me to it.”

She smiles at him, and the angle of it has her flashing back to their scene earlier. She feels the expression shift on her face, watches as his eyes follow the movement.

He sobers. “Are we okay?”

“I hope so,” Clarke says, clasping and unclasping her hands in her lap. “I think we can be. But we probably need to talk about some things before they write us another kissing scene. You know this won’t be the last one, and-- I guess I’m hoping if we clear the air now, the next one won’t be as bad.”

His laugh is hollow, his head tipping back against the wall with an equally hollow thunk. “Kissing me was bad?”

“Not-- The kissing itself was a pretty average filming experience,” she says, smiling slightly when he clasps a hand to his chest as if he’s been wounded. “But it brought back some pretty touchy memories.”

His hand drops back to his lap, his eyes following its trajectory. Shame hums beneath her skin, turning it a deep red as he continues to not look at her. Still, she makes herself wait for him.

“You kissed me, and when I turned you down, you dropped out of my life entirely,” he says, a harsh edge to his words. Not exactly accusatory, but certainly laced with hurt. “Can you blame me for thinking everything you’d done up to that point was just a ploy to get in my pants?”

“I was humiliated,” she says, careful not to snap, but not entirely able to keep her voice even. “I hadn’t exactly been subtle about my interest, Bellamy. And you hadn’t seemed-- It felt like we were on the same page.” She shakes her head. “You should have seen the look on your face. It was all I could think about today.”

“I was--”

“Disgusted?” She can see his jaw clench at the interruption and winces. “That’s how it looked to me.”

“So you just disappeared?”

“That’s what I do. I run away,” she admits. Her voice feels jagged, like it was torn from her lungs. Like there’s a hole in her chest making it hard to breathe. She thinks he notices, because some of his tension abates. “I convinced myself that you didn’t want to see me. That you thought I was just some stupid kid with a crush, and that-- It hurt my pride. And then anytime I actually had to face you, I felt like I had to put my walls up. Self-protection. You know the rest.” She lets out one cutting breath. “I’m sorry, Bellamy. I screwed things up.”

“We both did,” he sighs. “I was defensive too, and I let things escalate.”

“We’re quite a pair aren’t we?”

He hums thoughtfully. For a moment, there is silence between them. A wave of tiredness hits her, the sensation akin to relaxing her muscles when she didn’t even know she’d been holding them tense. It’s a light, free feeling.

“I wasn’t disgusted,” he says, turning his head to look her in the eye. “I was-- I’d heard so many rumors and stories about the way Hollywood works, you know? About co-stars sleeping together, and on-set flings. I thought that’s what you wanted, and I-- I liked you. A lot. I wanted more than that, or none of it. When you started avoiding me, it was like-- confirmation that you only wanted one thing from me.”

He hesitates, then reaches over to place his hand on top of hers. “That day, before the interview, when you said I always think the worst of you? You were right. That’s when I knew I fucked up at least as much as you did.”

Clarke laughs, to her own astonishment. It’s better than crying. “ _That’s_ when you knew?”

He laughs too. “I tried not to think about it too much, honestly. But when you said that, it felt true. And I had to re-evaluate.”

She takes his hand in both of hers, turning it over to trace lines on his palm.

“You liked me a lot, huh?”

He curls his fingers around hers, squeezing once and releasing them again. “You’re okay, I guess.”

“We got here in the first place because we couldn’t talk about shit,” she reminds him, glad that she’s able to manage a teasing tone. “I didn’t kiss you back then because I thought you were just _okay_. Or because I just wanted to hook up with you.”

He pauses, then deliberately laces his fingers through hers. She can feel his pulse thrumming where their wrists meet.

“Do you think we missed our chance?” He asks, voice low.

It’s easy to smile, easy to lean further into his side.

“I believe in second chances.”

 

* * *

 

**_26 celebs who rocked the red carpet at the Academy Awards_ **

 

  1. _Clarke Griffin made the leap from television to the silver screen with her role in ‘Joan’ this season but you’d never know from her poise and grace that this was her first Oscars appearance. As if she didn’t dazzle enough in Elie Saab, she showed up with some major arm candy: ‘Sky High’ co-star Bellamy Blake. When asked if the two are an item, Griffin laughed and said, “I only brought him because I lost a bet but it is nice to have another friendly face.”_



 

* * *

 

“That wasn’t nearly as long as I thought it was going to be,” Bellamy says, his hand on her lower back as he steers them toward the bar. “I had a nightmare last night that the red carpet turned into some kind of Tantalus thing, where the end was in sight but every time we got close, it stretched longer.”

“Maybe you should take a break from that mythology book I got you from your birthday.”

“As myths go, that’s not the worst one to get stuck in,” he muses. “I could’ve been chained to the red carpet with the paparazzi pecking out my innards.”

“This is why I brought you. Such a pleasant conversationalist.”

“And here I thought it was for my pretty face,” he says, catching her arm when she elbows him and looping it through his for a more formal escort.

“Well I couldn’t bring someone _too_ pretty. They might have upstaged me,” she teases.

He laughs and gives her a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Glad I could be of service, then. Wouldn’t want anyone to miss out on how beautiful you look tonight.”

Her own smile softens. “It would be a crime to deprive the world of all this,” she agrees.

“Couldn’t agree more.”

They get seated between a screenwriter they don’t know and an A-list actor’s husband who is uninterested in making friends, and Clarke is exceedingly glad that she brought Bellamy with her. They spend most of the show heckling quietly together, his breath warm on her ear and neck in moments when there’s no noise onstage for cover.

Clarke herself hasn’t been nominated, but they show her reaction when her co-star wins Best Actress, which is kind of startling. It’s nice though, because she doesn’t have to stick around for any kind of post-ceremony interview. She and Bellamy make their escape quickly, his hands going to loosen his tie as soon as the driver pulls the car away from the curb.

“Think we could convince someone to bring us In & Out?” Clarke asks, slumping onto his shoulder. “I could really go for a burger.”

“I think we can manage that,” Bellamy says, pressing a kiss to her hair.

She tips her chin up, receiving another kiss-- this time on the lips-- for her trouble. She drags it out long and slow and sweet, one of his hands working its way into her hair to loosen her intricate braids, massaging her scalp for a little relief. He loves doing that. She can always feel his smile when it makes her sigh into his mouth.

“Thanks for coming,” she says softly when he pulls back, his fingers still working at dislodging the pins in her hair. “It was better with you there.”

“It’s always better with me there,” he jokes, but she just smiles and kisses him again.

“My thoughts exactly.”

 

* * *

 

 **_Interviewer:_ ** _The kiss this season made ‘Brainwashed’ one of your most-watched episodes. Can you tell us anything about the future of Liz and Robbie’s relationship in season three?_

 **_CG:_ ** _We can’t say for sure, since neither of us have seen scripts--_

 **_BB:_ ** _And even if we had, we’d be sworn to secrecy._

 **_CG:_ ** _Right. [laughs] But I think there’s no one else on the show she trusts like she trusts Robbie. Everything they went through in the past two seasons, together or apart, only made their friendship and partnership stronger._

 **_BB:_ ** _Exactly. That’s part of the core of who these characters are, and I’m personally looking forward to exploring that more next season._

 **_Interviewer:_ ** _I know all the fans will be watching eagerly to see where the show takes you._

 **_BB:_ ** _I’m in the same boat._

 **_CG:_ ** _Me too. I can’t wait to find out._

**Author's Note:**

> title from la vie en rose, more because that's what i was listening to while i was posting this than because it relates.
> 
> i'm doing a thing and you should [check it out](http://katchyalater.tumblr.com/post/155005909253/hello-internets-i-hope-youre-having-lovely)! requests close january 4


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